Anchor to Humanity
by Mr. Saxobeat
Summary: In a desperate plot to assassinate the king, four mercenaries must come to terms with their past or lose their lives in the process.
1. Chapter 1

The bed was already empty when Lovino woke up. His bare feet grazed the grimy wooden floor, making their way to where a sheer white tunic lay. He searched for some bandages in the drawer of the desk on his right. He bound them over his chest, fingers deftly tying a knot that's been tied hundreds of times.

It's overkill, but there's something he didn't want exposed to the world.

The shirt was light, with a V-neck that stretched to just above his belly button, exposing his light olive skin. He stuffed the black denim of his pants into his combat boots, looping the laces into place. Before leaving the room, he reached under his pillow and took out a small black pistol.

Deciding it would be enough for now, he slid it into the low-slung waistband of his jeans, briefly glancing at his reflection in the cracked mirror on the opposite wall on his way out.

As Lovino descended the creaking staircase, boots smacking against the metal, the familiar cloying scent of opium wafted up to him. His nostrils flared. This meant Yao was already up, meaning he was once again the last one to awaken.

Stopping in the middle, he paused to look outside the tiny glass window, fingers resting against the cool surface. The fog has not let up, a grey cloak suffocating the wasteland they lived in.

Something shattered against the opposite wall, the glass tinkling as it fell to the floor, waking Lovino from his reverie.

"We know you're there, love. Don't keep us waiting," a voice drawled out. Someone else's laughter followed this. Gilbert. It's a raucous, familiar sound, grating on Lovino's ears. Not bothering to reply, he took his time reaching the others, counting each step of the stairs. As he walked towards the dining room, the candles flicker, the shadows on the walls lengthening.

"Took you long enough." Gilbert, a pale man with red irises and cheekbones so sharp they were borderline between handsome and feral, patted his knees, and Lovino went over and perched himself on them. Two long limbs wrapped themselves across his waist possessively.

He's wearing an old, but looked-after, black coat, silver buttons gleaming in the dim light. A well-worn cap hides most of the cropped white hair from sight. He lowered himself to the crook of Lovino's neck, placing a kiss there, before moving his hand to muss up Lovino's dark auburn hair.

Across the table, an Asian man had his scuffed leather boots on the table, a wooden flute cradled in his arms and a pipe dangling from his fingertips. His eyes were closed, delicate eyelids hiding the amber color beneath, and there are dark purple rings beneath them, resembling bruises on his pallid skin. Long lacquer-colored hair draped over the back of his chair.

His long black button-up shirt was open at the front, revealing a snarling Chinese dragon that had been inked across his torso in ebony. Behind all the ink, however, was a small purplish brand on his collarbone, shaped like an eye. Its twin was on Lovino's chest, right over the heart, carefully bandaged over to hide it from sight.

One eye opened and a slim eyebrow rose at the affection. Everything between Gilbert and Lovino was tenuous. One day they were together, the other they're throwing objects at each other. Apparently things were patched up for now.

"Have some tea." The one who spoke first now averted his attention from the deck of cards in his hands and nudged over a glass. Lovino raised the cup to his lips and took a small cautious sip. He made a face.

"You put your weird shit in here again, Arthur?" He crooked a finger at the vial of blue liquid peeking out from behind a dark velvet sash.

"Hmm...that should have knocked a grown man out. And tasteless, too. You're improving, Lovino," Arthur smirked. A grip on Lovino's arm tightened almost painfully as Gilbert tensed at this. It's a normal occurance now, but neither Lovino nor Gilbert are comfortable when their counterpart is being threatened by someone other than themselves. The same is with Yao and Arthur.

Lovino downed the rest of the drink in one gulp before setting it down on the table.

"I'm cooking next time. No one likes your fucked up poisons other than yourself." He yawned a bit, curling up into the secure hold Gilbert has on him.

Then, Yao decided to speak up.

"Someone hired us. Francis dropped it off this morning, and Arthur accepted." Lovino grimaced at the mention of the Frenchman. He looked to Gilbert for confirmation and received a crooked grin.

He took note of the frayed bag of coins on the table next to a piece of parchment. It's bulging, the mouth threatening to split at the seams. A corner of his mouth quirked up in appreciation.

"Who's the client?"

"Prince Braginski."

"A royal?" There's a small silence as the others watched him carefully for a reaction. Lovino made move to stand up, but Gilbert dug his nails into his arms, preventing any attempt to do so. His voice rose. "I thought we weren't doing that. Not after what's happened."

His arm sent china crashing to the ground, hazel eyes flashing. Liquor seeped in between the cracks on the table.

"We had an agreement, Arthur," he spat out.

It didn't take much to set him off anymore. Lovino was a loose cannon, unpredictable and unstable, and anything could trigger a violent response. But this time, he had a valid reason.

A green eye gleamed from under a fringe of blond hair, the other one hidden by an eyepatch. Arthur examined the cards in his hands before carefully pulling out a queen of hearts and settling it on the roof of the house he was building.

"That's...insurance money. A tenth." He didn't look up as he speaks, attention never wavering from the fragile house of cards. "We need the money, doll." After a rare moment of hesitation, he spoke again. "And I think you'll understand when you hear the target."

Lovino fingered one of the heavy coins, placing it in his mouth and biting down. His teeth sank easily into the gold, attesting to its purity.

"...Who's the target?"

Here, Gilbert let out a hysterical giggle. With a rough motion he grabbed Lovino's jaw in one hand and brought his mouth to the other's. He whispered between parted lips, an aggressive lilt to his tone.

"His father, Lovi. The king."

**Ages:**

**Lovino-19**

**Gilbert-20**

**Yao-21**

**Arthur-21**


	2. Chapter 2

There was a slight tension in the air now, though no one's saying anything. A sense of urgency permeates the room because they'll only have one chance to commit the deed. Anything but success meant certain death. Failure was not acceptable.

Arthur stared at them, waiting for Lovino's answer, though it's obvious what he'll say.

"Let's do it," Lovino said in a whisper. His entire demeanor has changed. Where before there was a general frustration at everything, there is now a determined anger, almost madness, in his eyes.

And it's not just him.

Yao sat up now, and a noticeable sneer was seen on Arthur's face. They made brief eye contact, and there's a subtle touch of their hands before they look back at Gilbert and Lovino. They all have personal grievances against their sovereign.

The only one not greatly affected was Gilbert, but he'll do it because it's what Lovino wants, needs even, and the recklessness was right up his alley.

"We'll need to leave soon. There's a costume party soon, for Prince Ivan Braginsky's brother, heir to the throne, Raivis, and there are rumors that the king will show up. We won't get another opportunity like this." Arthur stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "We meet Antonio and Francis tonight to receive the details." He tucked the pouch of gold coins into a slit on the side of his baggy pants.

The four of them parted ways, Yao and Arthur brushing past them into an adjoining corridor. One of the candles sputtered out with a quiet gasp.

Gilbert watched Lovino for a while and saw from the way his breaths were just starting to speed up, the reality of the situation had just started to settle down. He wasn't surprised that when Lovino finally turned to look at him, his green eyes were bright with unshed tears.

His breath came out all at once in a dry, shuddering sob, and then suddenly Gilbert was there with his arms around him.

"Shh, shh, it's alright," he murmured, taking the initiative to slide his tongue between parted lips. Lovino's fingers tangled in the silver-white hair at the nape of his neck.

"Marcello...Marcello will forgive me now, right?" His eyes searched Gilbert's for reassurance, but no reply is made, and Lovino tugged at his hair painfully.

"Yeah, sure." He hissed out through clenched teeth, concentrating more on mouthing the smooth skin of Lovino's throat. Breathing out an almost inaudible sigh, Lovino separated himself from Gilbert's arms, and moved across the room, kicking at a chair leg angrily in the process.

He bent down over a rotted, wooden panel and pried it open with his fingers. Reaching in, he took out a heavy cast iron key and tossed it to Gilbert, who snatched it from the air.

"Get your shit. I'll see if Yao and Arthur are ready."

He stomped out of the room and banged on the door to England's room. There was a quick scuffle before the door opened. Yao sauntered out of the room, smiling languidly, his set of daggers in sheaths around his dark pants. Arthur followed, glowering a bit, as he raked his fingers through his mussed hair. Not so subtly, he tapped on the hilts of a pair of double revolvers as he glared at Lovino.

Lovino rolled his eyes and turned to gather his own things. He unhooked a shotgun from the wall and slung it across his back to keep from looking too defenseless. Taking a pin from his hair, he rattled the lock in a desk until he heard a click. He dug around in the drawer and took out another pistol to match the one he already had in his waistband.

"Hurry up! We're leaving!" Arthur's voice boomed from near the front door, and Lovino pivoted and raced to the door. The other three stood waiting, and Arthur held out a ragged bandana to him.

"The air's still toxic, so I soaked these cloths in one of my antidotes. It should help." Lovino took it and tied it around the lower half of his face, wrinkling his nose at the sickly sweet scent.

They filed out the door, the heavy gate swinging shut behind them with an ominous _clang_. Piling into a rusted, dark green vehicle, they started their way to town.

The trip was made in a heavy silence, and Lovino unfurled the elegant scroll from Prince Braginski.

"He's not going to assist us at all?"

"Fucker doesn't want anything to be traced back to him," Gilbert explained. "We can't expect any inside help."

"_Shit!_"

Yao turned around from his seat in the front to look at them.

"Francis and Antonio seem to have some kind of a plan, so don't worry."

The car suddenly swerved as a dead tree loomed in their way.

"I can't see anything with this damn fog!" Arthur pounded the steering wheel with his fist.

Moments later, the car sputtered to a stop. Arthur beat the steering wheel again. A series of loud honks filled the grey land before they were swallowed by the sheer emptiness.

"We'll have to go the rest of the way by foot. It's not far," Yao said, placing a pale hand on Arthur's shoulder.

It was a dreary walk, and the polluted air burned their eyes, causing them to squint. A chill had set in by the time they finally met with the pavement and rubble of the town.

Gilbert led the way, toeing a path through broken beer bottles and charred wood. Picking his way through identical shacks, he bent over and brushed past a beige canvas and into a narrow candlelit cabin. He knocked on the side of the wall.

"Franny, Toni, anyone home?"


End file.
